


the shape of you

by LadyMerlin



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish is a mess, Adulthood, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Animal Abuse, Animal Transformation, Canonical Child Abuse, Developing Friendships, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Magical Realism, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, References to Depression, Ronan Lynch is a shifter, Shifter AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22754965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: The dog still doesn’t move, and Adam inches forward, still staying low to the ground. It holds still until he gets within reaching distance, but just as Adam is about to reach out to touch it, the dog flinches.Fuck, Adam thinks.
Relationships: Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 74
Kudos: 276





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is self-indulgent twaddle and possibly one of the strangest things I've ever written, but like. Writing block, needs must, you know the drill. This came out easy, and for that I'm grateful.
> 
>  **A gentle warning** : this Adam never met Gangsey in school and though I imagine he's as as driven and hardworking as canon!Adam, adulthood is a pretty lonely place. He's a lot quieter and less sarcastic than canon!Adam because he never had anyone to be that open with. I think he has been academically and financially successful, but I think he didn't find the emotional validation that he needed so badly. He's a lot more starved for affection, not the same as canon!Adam, but I think he's a fair product of his circumstances. After all, not everyone is lucky enough to have a circle of forever friends like Gangsey.

_if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee_

Adam doesn’t know exactly what it is that makes him stop at the mouth of the alleyway in the middle of a thunderstorm. It’s not something he’s hearing, because it’s not like he can actually hear anything over the rumbling of thunder with his one good ear, but maybe it’s a gut feeling or something. Adam has never put words to it, but he knows better than to disregard his instincts. 

Whatever it is, it makes him stop and stare into the gloom, a curved palm shielding his eyes from the deluge. Something rumbles in his chest, like there’s thunder inside him too. He squints and waits for his vision to adjust. His shirt is soaked through, so it’s not like he can get any wetter, anyway. Of all the days to not have an umbrella, today was a fine choice. 

Eventually the darkness fades into a dim picture, nothing too unusual. A couple of dumpsters, a few soggy cardboard boxes on the ground, and - 

And a pair of eyes, gleaming back at him from the darkness.

Adam resists the urge to take a step back, and instead leans in against his trepidation, squinting even harder in the hope that he’ll be able to figure out what he’s looking at. The creature helpfully growls at him, and it quickly becomes clear that he’s looking at a dog. It’s a big one, too, but it looks absolutely miserable, bedraggled and filthy, curled into itself like it’s been hurt. 

Something in his chest twinges. He’s going to go home and take a hot shower and dry off and get something to eat. In the morning, today’s rain will be nothing more than a bad memory. That’s a luxury he hasn’t always been able to afford. This dog is going to be here through the night, and into tomorrow. It’s going to stay here in the cold, and even when the rain stops (if it ever stops), it’s not like there’ll be anywhere dry or safe for the dog to stay. It’s injured and scared and alone. 

Adam had been that dog, once. 

He sinks down into a crouch and tries not to wince when his knees touch the icy concrete through the fabric of his trousers. “Hey,” he says, feeling incredibly stupid. But he doesn’t know how else to do this. It’s not like he’s dealing with a cat who might be attracted by sounds or movement. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” he tries again, looking for a balance between a gentle tone and having to shout to be heard. “Do you want to get out of the rain for a bit?” 

The dog growls lowly and doesn’t move. “C’mon doggy,” Adam persists, because he’s never been one to give up. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. I just don’t like the thought of leaving you out here alone.” He’s not entirely sure why he’s talking to the dog like it can understand what he’s saying, but he supposes it’s more about the tone of his voice than the words he’s using. “I live just a few blocks away and I can rustle up some hamburger if you’re hungry.” He thinks about the sad contents of his fridge. “Or chicken strips, if that’s more your style.” 

The dog still doesn’t move, and Adam inches forward, still staying low to the ground. The dog holds still until he gets within reaching distance, but just as Adam is about to reach out to touch it, the dog flinches. 

_Fuck_ , Adam thinks. 

He sinks even lower to the ground, his guts all twisted up. He knows what causes people to flinch from gentle touches, and he doesn’t think dogs are any different in that regard. He doesn’t think this dog is any different from him. 

Instead of reaching out, he turns his hand palm up and offers it to the dog. “Please don’t bite me,” he whispers, “please _please_ don’t bite me,” even though he remembers that he’d bitten plenty of helping hands (metaphorically) in his day, even when they’d approached him with far more grace than this. 

He looks down and away, trying to take the pressure off. He’d never particularly enjoyed being stared at, himself. For a long moment it looks like nothing is going to happen, and then he feels warm breath against his fingers, and he tries desperately to keep his hand steady. He only looks up when he feels a wet tongue licking his palm, and he can’t help but grin when it tickles. “Thank you, doggy,” he whispers before sitting up slightly, his lower back complaining from having crouched down for so long. The dog continues licking his fingers. 

He reaches out slowly with his other hand, making sure the dog can see what he’s doing, before he strokes it’s wet fur. This close, Adam can smell it’s beginning to stink, and in the back of his head he’s already considering how he’s going to give the dog a bath in his own bathroom without losing his deposit. Thank god the apartment allows animals; he knows plenty of places that wouldn’t even allow a fish tank, let alone a dog the size of a wolf. 

“Will you come home with me? I can get you some food?” he asks, wondering if the dog might recognize any of the words he’s using, like food or home. Or maybe this dog has never lived with people and doesn’t know either of them. His mind races at the thought of vet visits and dog food and all the other expenses, but there’s no fear or anxiety. Nothing but anticipation. 

Somewhere in between turning into the alleyway and now, Adam has decided that if the dog wants to stay, he wants to keep it. He wants it more than he’s wanted anything in a long time. 

The dog whuffs, as if sensing that Adam is lost in his thoughts, and then stands up. Its fur is filthy, matted with mud and god knows what else, and it’s back right leg isn’t touching the ground. Adam winces at the thought of broken bones and other injuries. They’ll definitely have to visit a vet. “It’s not far. Think you’ll be able to walk?” he asks, staggering to his own feet. The dog gamely walks towards the mouth of the alleyway, keeping its injured leg off the ground. “Good boy,” Adam says and follows him, unable to help but smile at the tiny wag of the dog’s tail. 

-

Getting home is the easy part. Even getting past the front desk is easier than Adam had expected, because he’s long since mastered the skill of walking into places like he belongs there. The apartment isn’t huge, but it’s definitely bigger than some of the places Adam has stayed, and he while he knows dogs tend to need more space, this is a Washington dog. It’s probably used to premiums on rent and city living. Adam almost thinks the dog rolls its eyes when he makes the joke, but that must be the exhaustion speaking. 

“Bath first, please,” he says, leading it to the bathroom. The sooner they clean up, the sooner they can get fed and go to sleep. Adam can feel the exhaustion in his bones, and the dog looks no better. It follows him quietly, stepping into the cubicle without a fuss. Adam blinks but doesn’t question it out loud; he knows better than to borrow trouble. 

He doesn’t bother taking off his own clothes, instead sinking to the ground fully dressed. He’s drenched anyway, so it’s not like it’ll make a difference. The warm spray feels amazing, and there’s something terribly satisfying about running soap through the dog’s fur and watching streams of grey-brown water turn clear as he washes the dirt away. The snarls and tangles in the dog’s fur slowly loosen up as Adam runs his fingers through them, and the dog seems to relax too, only growling slightly when Adam gets too close to his belly. That’s fair, so Adam doesn’t take it personally. 

His arms are aching by the time he’s satisfied, and the water is lukewarm at best, so he turns it off and guides the dog out of the cubicle. Under all the fur, he’d found a collar with a tag, but he hadn’t been able to read it. He sits on the floor of the bathroom, still wearing his wet clothes, and ducks his head until the polished metal button is in front of his eyes. “Ronan?” he asks, “is that your name?” 

The dog’s ears perk up and he whines a little, which Adam takes as an affirmative. It’s always nice to hear his own name. He figures it’s got something to do with being treated like a person rather than an object. He can’t forget that sometimes he’d gone so long without hearing it that he’d almost forgotten his name wasn’t ‘boy’ or ‘hey you’. If the dog has a name, he’s going to use it. 

“Odd name for a dog, but I like it. Suits you,” Adam comments lightly, before wrapping the dog - Ronan - with a dry towel. He goes through two towels and a bathmat before Ronan is mostly dry, and his fur starts fluffing out. Adam had thought he was black all over, but now it appears that under all the dirt and mud, Ronan is actually a dark brown, muscular and sleek, and very _very_ warm. His face is handsome and his dark eyes are sentient. Intelligent. Adam doesn’t know how intelligent creatures can bring themselves to hurt each other. 

He considers the situation. He knows he should feed Ronan but if he leaves the bathroom like this, he’s probably going to fall sick, and then he’ll be in real trouble. “Can you wait here for a bit? Let me just take a quick shower?” The dog whines and sits down on a towel, facing the other way. Adam can’t help but laugh at the thought of Ronan respecting his privacy. 

He hops into the cubicle and strips his clothes off under the weakening spray, scrubbing himself down as efficiently as he can. His knees are still red and sore from kneeling on the pavement, but Adam can’t bring himself to regret it. 

Adam only has one towel left, and it’s a bit short but it’s long enough to wrap around his waist until he gets his clothes. He steps out of the bathroom and leaves the door open to let the steam escape, and Ronan follows him. He slips into pyjamas and finds himself in an oddly cheerful mood. 

“Food?” he asks, and Ronan whuffs. Adam considers the fact that he hasn’t heard Ronan barking a single time. He doesn’t know what that means, but he notes it down. “Cooked or raw?” he asks, before realising that Ronan probably has no way to answer, even if he does understand. 

But before he can reconsider his strategy, Ronan noses at the oven. “Cooked?” Adam asks. Ronan noses at the oven again, and Adam nods. “Chicken strips it is.” Adam pan fries plain chicken until he’s sure it’s cooked through, and only seasons his half after he’s taken Ronan’s share out of the pan. “Don’t know much about dogs but I know you’re not supposed to eat salt, and you’re not supposed to eat chocolate. We’re going to have to figure this out as we go along,” he comments, plating his own food. 

He puts the plate on the floor for Ronan, and then considers it. It feels weird to be sitting at the table while Ronan is at his feet, so Adam sinks to the ground too, grateful for the carpet that protects him from the dubiously heated floors. 

He eats a chicken strip with his fingers before he notices Ronan staring at him, which is weird because Adam had thought Ronan would fall on the chicken strips like he was starving. It almost looks like Ronan is asking a question. Adam shrugs because he doesn’t know what the question is, and continues eating. Ronan follows suit and they’re silent until the food is done. “Water?” he asks, running the tap into a bowl without waiting for an answer. Ronan drinks from it while Adam downs water from a glass, before rinsing it and putting it back in the cupboard. 

He refills Ronan’s bowl and puts it in a corner where no one is likely to accidentally kick it over. “Bedtime. Do you want the sofa or the bed?” he asks, almost jokingly. 

Ronan turns towards the bedroom, and glances back at Adam. Adam thinks about it for a second before he shrugs and leads the way. Life is weird. If a dog wants to sleep on his bed, Adam isn’t going to question it. At least he knows Ronan is clean. 

Oddly enough, Ronan doesn’t jump onto the bed. Instead he walks around, nosing at the corners of the room until he’s satisfied, before turning in a circle and lying down on the ground. Adam finds an old scarf that he hasn’t worn in years, and puts it lightly over Ronan’s back. “You can sleep in the bed, if you want,” he says, turning off the lights and lying down. He’s asleep before he remembers closing his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys, real life has been kicking my ass like a tin can down the road. Or something. Idk.

The next morning finds him more well-rested than he’s felt in years. It’s strange because it’s not like he slept any more than he usually does, and in fact he might even have been more tired yesterday than usual. Maybe it has something to do with the way Ronan wakes him, licking at his fingertips. 

Adam sits up straight, because he’s never been able to wake up gently, and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. He stretches his back and winces when his joints pop. “Ronan,” he croaks, when he sees the dog sitting patiently at his bedside. “G’morning.” 

Ronan whuffs and licks his chops. Right. He’s probably hungry. Or does he need the bathroom? How do dogs - does he need to take Ronan out? “Do you need to go out?” Ronan shakes his head and Adam blinks. No, he must have imagined it. Dogs don’t shake their heads. Do they? God, they need to get him to a vet, and maybe then someone can tell him what he’s supposed to be doing. “Food?” Ronan nods, and Adam tries not to think about it. 

He scrambles the last of his eggs and slices an apple. It’s the first time in a long time that Adam remembers having breakfast. He’s a little grateful that today is a Saturday, and he doesn’t think he needs to be at work. Or at least, he hasn’t checked his email yet. There’s still time for this weekend to be stolen from him. 

Ronan eats his eggs and accepts a few slices of the apple, but turns his nose away when he’s had about half. Adam shrugs and eats the rest of it. It’s not bad, crunchy and sweet. He’ll pick up more at the corner shop on his way home. 

“So,” he says, when he’s downed his instant coffee, ignoring the way Ronan’s nose wrinkles at the smell. “We need to go to the vet for your leg. We also need groceries. You okay with that?” 

Ronan nods again, and Adam wonders if he’s finally lost his grip on sanity. Well, there’s nothing he can do for it now. Anyway, he’s enjoying this. Ronan is the perfect companion. Agreeable, quiet, and an apparently excellent communicator. Better than most of Adam’s exes, really. 

He doesn’t drive much in the city, but he still has his old clunker. He should’ve gotten rid of her years ago, but there’s a lot of sentimental value to it. She’s the first thing Adam ever bought for himself, straight out of the scrap yard, spending every spare minute of his time to fix her up. He’d lived in her for a couple of months, after he left Henrietta. The Hondayota has never failed him, and he’s not going to abandon her just because she looks like she’s held together with duct tape and optimism. Ronan wrinkles his nose again, but Adam would have been surprised if a dog as opinionated as Ronan hadn’t had two cents to share about the jalopy. 

“I know she’s ugly as all hell, but she still works fine. C’mon, get in.” Ronan jumps neatly into the passenger seat and Adam wonders if he should be buckled in. Google tells him there’s a highly rated vet just twenty minutes away, so Adam puts it into his GPS and heads out. 

It’s a nice day with no traffic, so they make it just before the clinic opens. He opens the door for Ronan and Ronan jumps out, walking towards the clinic like he knows exactly where it is. Everyone always said dogs were intelligent, but surely this is too much? Maybe he can smell the other animals? 

Registration is relatively painless; paperwork had long ago stopped scaring Adam. He hands over his emergency credit card and doesn’t flinch at the total. He has money now, enough to spare at times like this. They won’t starve, and Adam doubts he’s going to get fired anytime soon. 

Ronan quietly submits to the examination, again growling only when the vet’s hands reach too close to his belly. “Well, apart from being a little skinny and the sprained leg, he seems fine, Mr Parrish.” 

“We can take care of the skinny. Maybe if I could just have a list of the things he’s allowed to eat? And how do we take care of the leg?” Adam asks, resisting the urge to correct her address; Mr Parrish has always been his father. 

“I’ll wrap it up but the idea is to keep him off his leg for a while. I know it’ll be difficult since he’s not exactly a purse dog but--”

Adam shrugs. “I can carry him if that helps. I don’t think we’ll be going out much for a few days. Will the lack of exercise be bad for him?” 

“Ordinarily I’d say yes, but considering the injury, I think it’s the lesser of two evils. He might get a bit tense from being kept indoors, but he seems like a very peaceful animal.” 

“And uh, does he seem smarter than usual?” Adam asks, trying not to feel stupid about his question. 

“What do you mean, Mr Parrish?” 

“I mean, uh. I feel like he understands me? Like sometimes I think he’s answering my questions by nodding or shaking his head? I mean, I know it sounds crazy but--”

The vet is smiling when she cuts him off, but it doesn’t seem mean. “Mr Parrish, it doesn’t sound crazy at all. It’s a very good sign. Ronan almost certainly isn’t responding to your questions, but he is responding to your tone. You’re talking to him, interacting with him, that’s really good for both you and the animal. He’s definitely a smart dog, and if you keep talking to him, soon enough it’ll seem like he’s reading your mind.” 

Adam doesn’t push, because he doesn’t want to be institutionalised or anything, but when he looks at Ronan it definitely looks like he’s laughing at Adam. “Thanks,” he says instead. 

\- 

Grocery shopping is bad, but it’s not terrible. Adam kinda wants to put Ronan in a shopping cart and take him inside Walmart, but he’s pretty sure that’s not going to go over well with anyone. 

“Do you want to stay inside the car or outside the shop?” he asks Ronan. The vet had told him to keep talking to Ronan, so he’s just going to stick with it. Neither option is without its flaws. He’s not thrilled about the idea of leaving Ronan in the car on a hot day, even if he does leave the windows rolled down. But if he left him outside the store, Ronan doesn’t have a leash, and someone might think he was a stray. “Think you can fake being on a leash?” he asks Ronan, fishing out a tie from his back seat. It’s a generic black one which he keeps in the car for work emergencies, so he won’t miss it too much. 

He ties one end of the fabric to a bike stand and tucks the other one end into Ronan’s collar. He could easily move if he needed to, but from a distance it looks more or less like a leash. “Won’t be long,” he says, speed-walking into Walmart. 

He buys a bag of dog food but also spends almost twice the amount he normally does on groceries. He’s shopping for two, after all. And he can afford it. He doesn’t feel anything other than excitement, swelling up like a balloon in his chest. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted this until now, when it’s so close he can almost taste it. 

-

The weekend passes in a haze. 

It usually does, but most of the time Adam doesn’t know where the time goes. He works and sleeps and works and sleeps and before he knows it, it’s Monday again. But now he knows what it means when people say the weekend was too short. 

He’s a little worried about leaving Ronan alone at home, at first. But Ronan growls at him when he dithers in the doorway, and Adam takes that as a clear indication that he’ll be fine. He’s asked a stay at home mom who lives down the hall to check on Ronan if she can, but he’s not sure if she will. He doesn’t think Ronan will hurt her, but he’s worried anyway. He’s a worrier, in general. 

But then he talks to his boss for an entire half-hour when it turns out that she’s a dog-mom too, and she kicks him out of the office half-an-hour early to go and check on his new pet. He doesn’t notice, but everyone else does, that he’s more animated than anyone in the office has ever seen him before. It’s nice. Adam has always been a nice guy, so it’s nice to see him happy. 

Ronan doesn’t jump all over Adam like he’d expected, but the way he looks at Adam makes him think that Ronan is glad he’s home all the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might hurt. Send love so I can finish it, pls. That's not an ultimatum btw, I'm going to finish it, but I sorely need some love <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I know it’s taken longer than I said it would, but you know. Life’s been kicking my ass. I can’t believe we’re in bloody August, what the hell?

Things are almost bizarrely easy, and Adam starts wondering why he hadn’t thought of this earlier, of getting a dog or a cat to give him a reason to wake up in the morning. The thought sounds more depressing than it actually is, but it’s true nonetheless. 

Ronan starts sleeping on the bed with him, waking him up when Adam has nightmares so bad that they leave him frozen with fear. Somehow Ronan’s warm weight on his chest doesn’t feel suffocating.

Ronan even lets Adam hug him sometimes, burying his nose into the soft fur on the side of Ronan’s face, like he’s a safety blanket. It’s incredible. Adam even finds himself talking to people in parks when he and Ronan go out together. He never realised that having a pet could change his life like this. He thinks he’s happier than he’s ever been before, since he brought Ronan home. 

But Adam Parrish isn’t meant to have good things, and the universe reminds him of this on one beautiful Sunday morning, almost four weeks after he met Ronan. It figures that the weather is the polar opposite of cold, dark and rainy. 

He’s actually walking through the carpark chattering at Ronan when someone shouts Ronan’s name behind them. Both of them - Adam and Ronan - spin around in unison to see a man in a pale orange polo-tee making a mad dash towards them, followed by a girl in a short black dress. Adam instinctively steps in front of Ronan, instantly reassured by the weight of Ronan’s wet nose behind his knee. 

Polo-tee lands on his knees a few steps away from Adam, and it looks like it probably hurts, but Adam doesn’t think physical pain is the reason behind the tears welling in the guys eyes. He’s panting and rubbing at his eyes messily, pushing his glasses to a side with wet fingers and leaving stains on the lenses. “Ronan?” He whispers, and behind him Ronan whines lowly. 

Adam’s heart sinks. That’s Ronan’s recognition noise, he thinks. For better or worse, he knows who this guy is. But Adam doesn’t. “Who are you?” 

Polo-tee looks up at him and tries for a smile but Adam is too familiar with grief to miss it in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I know how strange this must look but. My name is Richard Gansey. Ronan is my best friend. I thought I’d never see him again.” 

The girl catches up with him, and she looks furious for some reason. “Who are you?” She demands, tilting her face up at Adam. Her reaction is easier to deal with than Polo-tee’s sincerity. 

“I’m the guy who found Ronan with an injured leg in the middle of a rainstorm four weeks ago,” Adam answers as plainly as he can. 

The girl’s expression goes cold with familiar grief and Adam - Adam doesn’t know what to think. Clearly these people love Ronan, if they’re even telling the truth about being his previous owners. But they can’t have been doing too good a job of it, if Ronan had ended up hurt and alone. 

“He got into a fight,” the girl says, clearly stepping in for polo-tee when he can’t seem to collect himself enough to talk to Adam. “With another dog.” She stumbles on the word ‘dog’, but Adam can’t think of any possible reason for that. “We didn’t even know he was hurt until the daycare told us he’d run off.” She’s choking up too, and Adam believes her. “We thought he might have died,” her voice cracks on the last word and Richard, still on the ground, whines in a way that’s distressingly reminiscent of Ronan. 

Ronan whines back, and that kind of decides it for Adam. He sinks to the ground beside Ronan and wraps his arms around Ronan’s chest. “Hey buddy, you recognise these guys?” He asks. 

Ronan tucks his head under Adam’s neck, licking at his ear almost-silently. Adam allows it, trying to stop himself from trembling before he draws back. “Do you? Do you know Richard?” 

“Gansey,” the guy volunteers. “Everyone calls me Gansey.”

Adam doesn’t look at him, keeping his eyes trained on Ronan. “Do you know Gansey?” 

Slowly, but surely, Ronan nods. There’s a burst of swearing towards Adam’s side, mostly from the girl, but Adam ignores it. “Did they hurt you?” Ronan shakes his head. “Okay.” 

He slides back slightly before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Ronan’s forehead. “Okay.” He pushes himself to his feet and takes a step backwards, so that Gansey can wrap his arms around Ronan, still sobbing. Even the girl is beginning to look properly teary eyed. 

They don’t seem to notice him after that, and Ronan follows them, turning to glance back at him every few steps until they get him into their car, a short distance away. Adam stands there until they’re gone, and a long time after. 

-

The colour Ronan had brought into his life fades almost overnight. It had only been four weeks, but it feels like he’d had Ronan his whole life. He keeps Ronan’s stuff out for a couple of days but he keeps tripping over it and eventually decides to pack it up. It barely fills up a single box, but the apartment feels too big once it’s gone, and far too empty. 

His dog-loving boss tries to give him some time off when he tells her that Ronan had been reclaimed by his original owners, but he doesn’t want it. It’s not like there’s anything much to do alone in his flat. He doesn’t have any friends here. His parents aren’t an option. He might as well as work. He spends as much time in the office as he possibly can, and even goes out with some of his colleagues to avoid coming back to the flat. There isn’t much joy in it. 

He has a nightmare about his father but there’s no one to wake him from it. It’s pretty much how it’s been for most of his life, but somehow it feels worse now, since he got used to the warm weight of another living being in the bed beside him. His neighbour suggests he gets another pet and he knows it’s not a bad idea, but something in his stomach rebels at the thought of replacing Ronan so easily. Besides. It’s clear that nothing good lasts for Adam Parrish. He should’ve known better than to hope. 

She doesn’t press, instead telling him that someone had been knocking at his door while he’d been at work the day before. Adam shrugs. He isn’t expecting guests or delivery, so maybe it’d been a mistake. He doesn’t particularly care either way. One night, he returns to find a man sitting on the floor outside his door.

The guy doesn’t look huge while he’s sitting down, but Adam imagines that if he stands up he’d be taller than Adam, and broader by half. His face is pressed into his knees and he looks like he’s sleeping. His head is shaved and Adam can see the edges of a dark tattoo swirling out from underneath the sleeves of his wifebeater. He’s the very picture of trouble. 

Adam takes a step back, planning to flee even though he doesn’t have anywhere to go, but the wooden plank behind him creaks and the man blinks awake, coming into alertness between one breath and the next. 

He’s up on his feet in an instant, reaching out for Adam, and Adam can’t help it. He flinches. 

The guy snatches his hand back, holding it up as if to show Adam he’s unarmed. “Sorry,” he says with a voice hoarse from disuse and sleep. “Sorry,” he tries again after clearing his throat. “Adam,” he says, and then stops. 

Adam goes cold. “Who are you? How do you know my name?” 

The guy looks incredibly distressed and then he looks around them, as if checking for witnesses. Adam’s tension ratchets a notch higher. He knows he’s pathetic, but he doesn’t want to die. Not yet. He braces for a hit that doesn’t come. 

“Can we talk inside? It’s not the type of conversation we should have where we might be overheard.” 

Adam blinks and stares. “Excuse me?” 

The guy clicks his tongue and even though Adam is sure he’s never met the man before, there’s something distressingly familiar about him. But that doesn’t mean Adam is going to let a total stranger into his flat. “Please, Adam. I really need to talk to you. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never - I could never—”

“Who are you?” Adam asks, because some part of him actually believes that the guy isn’t going to hurt him, but the overriding rational thought is that this is _insane,_ that there’s no way he’s going to allow a stranger to come into his flat, to be _alone_ with him. 

The guy looks desperate, and he takes a step forward, directly into Adam’s personal space. “I’m Ronan,” he whispers, and Adam blinks because he’s not sure he heard right. The guy’s furrowed eyebrows make him look angry, but his eyes are upset. “Please Adam, I can prove it, just not here. I’m Ronan. Please believe me.” 

Adam’s head is spinning, and his heart is pounding, and it’s very likely that he’s in the presence of an actual crazy person and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, but he can’t let him in. But he can’t stay here in the corridor either. Soon enough the noise is going to attract attention and Adam will have bigger problems than his apparent loss of sanity if he gets kicked out of the apartment complex. The man reaches for him again, apparently impatient with Adam’s silence, when Adam catches sight of a leather collar around the man’s neck. A silver disc hangs from it, just at the base of the man’s throat; Adam doesn’t need to get any closer to know that it’s Ronan’s collar. 

“Please don’t touch me,” he says quietly, before ducking around the guy and unlocking his front door. If this is how he dies, well. He doesn’t think too many people will even notice him gone. He stands back just enough to let the man in before closing the door behind him. The guy keeps his distance, but somehow Adam can tell he’s barely resisting the urge to reach out to him again, though he honestly can’t tell why. He’s not yet prepared to accept that this man is his former dog; he doesn’t think he’ll _ever_ be prepared to accept that. 

But then, without a further word, the man starts taking off his clothes until he’s just standing there in his boxers, and Adam’s heart is racing so fast that it’s a miracle the other guy can’t hear it; he’s terrified. Anyone sane would be terrified of a naked stranger in their apartment. And with his clothes off and all his muscles on display, In a fight, Adam wouldn’t stand a chance. None of this is helping with his peace of mind. 

“Please don’t freak out too much,” the guy says, though Adam thinks they’re _way_ past that. And then there’s a weird surge of pressure and heat, and the guy starts changing in front of his eyes. Adam doesn’t think he’d be able to describe it if he tried, but he shrinks and shrinks until the only thing left in front of Adam is… is a dog. 

Ronan. 

Adam takes a deep breath, and then another one when the first doesn’t help. Then he takes a step back, and the dog - Ronan whines. The sound is so familiar that it’s almost painful. Adam leans back against the counter to keep himself upright when his knees threaten to give way. Ronan is a man. Or maybe this man is the dog whom Adam knew as Ronan. He doesn’t know. Does it make a difference? Adam wonders if this is what losing his mind actually feels like. 

In front of his eyes, Ronan turns back into a naked man, who quickly pulls his clothes on and moves towards Adam. “Adam, do you believe me?” he asks, a little desperately. 

Adam, who has just seen a man turn into a dog and then back, has no choice but to nod. He believes what he’s seen, even though he doesn’t understand it, and doesn’t trust it. 

The guy - Ronan - makes the same whining noise dog-Ronan used to make and inches even closer, like he’s hoping Adam doesn’t notice what he’s doing. Despite his initial impression, Ronan is just a hair taller than him, but definitely looks like he could bench-press Adam if he wanted to. “Can I please hug you?” he asks, like something really important hangs in the balance of Adam’s answer to his question. 

Adam is going to refuse. He’s _supposed_ to refuse. He’s used up all his crazy for the year by allowing a stranger into his apartment like this. But he doesn’t. He nods and before he knows it, Ronan is wrapped around him, his head tucked into the crook of Adam’s neck, chest pressed flat against Adam’s own and his hands all the way around Adam’s back, like Adam is the only thing keeping Ronan afloat in the middle of the sea. It’s the best damn hug Adam has ever experienced. 

He can’t help it. He hugs back, and Ronan trembles. He smells familiar, which is not to say he smells like a dog, but like something Adam knows in the back of his head. Ronan doesn’t let him go for a long time, and even when he does eventually step back he keeps his hands on Adam’s shoulders, like he can’t bear to let go. 

“You saved my life,” he says, looking unflinchingly into Adam’s eyes. “Thank you. You probably have some questions.” 

That’s an understatement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y’all and your loved ones are safe and healthy. Send love if you can, it’d mean a lot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, hello! Short update, and I think the last one will probably be some sort of epilogue! I'm sorry for the lateness of this, guys. I've got no excuse except the usual; life has been kicking my ass.

“I forget, sometimes,” Ronan says, after Adam has gone through the ritual of offering him a cup of coffee and something to eat. He’s been doing too much grocery shopping for just one person, and it’s going to take him longer than four weeks to break the habit. “When I’m a dog, everything is easier. I don’t have to think about people things, so I forget.” 

Adam studies him, and thinks. He doesn’t know shit about any of this, but something tells him that Ronan isn’t telling him the whole truth. 

Ronan averts his gaze and scowls, unhappy at being caught out even though Adam hasn’t said anything. “My dad died a while ago. I’m not okay about it.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Adam offers, even though he can’t relate. 

Ronan’s scowl deepens. “I wanted to forget,” he admits. “I was spending a lot of time on four feet, which is fine for people like us, it’s not like there’s a limit on it or anything. But I was hanging out with some people who found out about it even though they shouldn’t have. I was really angry about my father, and my brother was making things worse and when they asked me to fight it felt like a good way to get rid of some of my aggression.” Ronan trails off, like he hadn’t intended to say as much. 

“Dog fighting?” Adam asks hesitantly, a little upset at the thought. 

Ronan nods. “You know the gist of it. Had a fight. Got hurt. The people there aren’t exactly animal lovers. I didn’t want to be injected with random drugs so I made a run for it. Got lost.” He says this last part like he’s ashamed of himself. “I only kind-of understood what was going on when you found me. I don’t think I’d have been able to turn back with my sprained paw, but I don’t think I would have even tried. I didn’t want to.” 

Adam sympathises with that more than he ought to. He’s spent a large part of his life wishing he was someone else, too. 

“You were kind to me. You kept me safe and warm and you talked to me. You didn’t treat me like a dog, exactly, but you didn’t treat me like a person either. You didn’t ask me about my feelings or demand that I do anything other than just exist. It was like a mental vacation, but I didn’t know I was taking one. I think I just checked out.” 

And honestly, that sounds terrifying. Ronan seems to notice the tension on his face and shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I have a friend who spent most of her life as a raven. Barely remembers what it’s like to be human. It’s easier that way, you know?” He does. 

Ronan falls silent, like he’s not sure how to proceed. “Gansey?” Adam asks, a long moment later. 

“He’s my best friend. We grew up together. He and his girlfriend, Blue, they’re the only ones who know about the shifting, apart from my family. And now, you.” 

A thought occurs to Adam, and oh. Of course. He shakes his head. “I won’t tell anyone, you don’t have to worry about it.” Why else would Ronan be sitting here? 

Ronan blinks, confusion plain on his face before it turns into irritation. “I’m not worried about that, Adam. I never thought you would. That’s not why I’m here. You didn’t know before I showed you right? If I was worried, I would never have come back here.” 

Adam supposes that’s true. And Ronan probably knows that Adam doesn’t really have anyone to spill his secrets to, and Adam tries not to think about how embarrassing  _ that  _ is. But it still leaves one question. “So why are you here?” 

Ronan blushes and looks away. “I was only mostly a dog when I was here with you, but I loved you, you know? In the way dogs do. You were everything to me.” This actually does make Adam feel a little better, because Ronan had been everything to Adam too. “I don’t even know what you did and my entire day revolved around you, and it was really nice. I hadn’t spent that much time shifted in my entire life. I guess the attachment carried over.” Ronan sounds sullen, like he’s being forced to admit something against his will. 

“I missed you too,” Adam admits, deciding to be kind. “More than was reasonable, I think.” 

The confession delights Ronan, and he fails to hide it in any way. If a human could wag his tail, Ronan would be doing it. “And for what it’s worth, I’m a public defender. I mostly work with CPS.” 

Ronan grins at him. “That’s pretty cool. Would you like to come hang out with me, sometimes? I’m guessing you’re pretty busy, but like, on weekends or something? I’ve been coming over here almost every day since I figured out how to get back here, but you’ve never been home.” 

Adam shrugs. “I’ve kinda been avoiding it.” He doesn’t explain why, because he figures it’s pretty obvious. “And I’d like that. I’m not that interesting but if you want to get a coffee sometime, it’d be nice.” 

Ronan’s grin grows even wider and it looks like he’s glowing from the inside. “It’d be really nice. Actually, do you have any plans tomorrow morning? Gansey and Blue are insisting on brunch, you could meet them properly. Dick is pretty alright when he’s not crying like a giant nerd.” 

Adam hasn’t been for brunch with anyone before, but it sounds nice, actually. “I don’t have plans. And sure, as long as they want to meet me.” 

Ronan scoffs. “What are you talking about? They’ve been asking to meet you for ages now, but I just wasn’t able to find you.” He puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder and Adam doesn’t flinch. “I’ll leave you alone now, but I’ll come by and pick you up tomorrow morning. Does ten sound okay?” 

Adam takes a deep breath and speaks before he can consider it. “It’s pretty late. Do you just want to stay here? I mean, you’ve done it before. You can even borrow some clothes if you want, this time,” Adam adds, finding a thread of humour in the situation. 

Ronan looks stunned for a second before shaking it off. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll sleep as a dog, though, so thanks for the offer but it’s okay. Blanket on the couch works fine for me.” 

Strangely enough though, Adam had almost been hoping that Ronan would sleep on the bed with him. But he supposes now that he knows Ronan is a guy, that’d probably make things really uncomfortable. It’s probably better this way. He should be grateful that he even gets this. 

For the first time since Ronan left, Adam goes to sleep not dreading the morning. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallelujah we're done! I hope you guys like it, and that you're all doing well at the end of this trash-fire of a year! Sending love your way <3 As always, kudos & comments are always appreciated!

When he wakes up, Ronan is already awake. He’s staring at the fridge in the same way he used to when he was a dog, and it’s a little funny. “You alright?” 

Ronan visibly perks up, and it’s incredible to see how many mannerisms he has that Adam still recognises. “Morning,” he says, instead of answering Adam’s question. 

“Good morning. Are you alright?” Adam isn’t known for letting things go. 

Ronan looks a little bashful. “Couldn’t sleep. Had weird dreams. But it’s always a little weird after a shift. Sometimes I forget I have opposable thumbs and stuff. Don’t know why, really, but it’s like my brain gets jet-lagged. You know?” 

Adam has never been on a plane, but he doesn’t think that’s what Ronan is asking, so he nods. “You’ll be okay, though, right?” 

Ronan grins, and Adam notices that he’s actually terribly handsome. The realisation is a little distressing, but Ronan doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. This is pretty usual for people like me. Breakfast?” he asks, perking up and doing the metaphorical-tail-wagging thing again. 

Adam pulls open the fridge to study its contents. “Sure. But aren’t we going for breakfast with your friends?” He takes out a carton of eggs even as he’s asking the question. 

Ronan shrugs. “There’s always room for second breakfast,” he says with a grin. Adam scoffs but starts mixing pancake batter. 

“Can you eat chocolate chips when you’re a human?” 

Ronan shrugs again. “Guess we can find out,” he says blithely, and Adam only has to glance at him once in horror to realise he’s joking. 

“You’re more of an asshole than I thought you’d be,” Adam swears, pouring in a generous handful of chocolate chips. He’d bought them for himself for the first time ever after he’d found Ronan, and then he’d never used them because he was so worried that he’d drop one and Ronan would eat it by accident. No one ever said Adam’s neuroses were normal, but, well. He’s so caught-up in his own thoughts that it takes him a moment to realise that Ronan hasn’t responded. 

When he looks up, Ronan is utterly still, staring at his empty plate as if he’s not really seeing it. The silence tells Adam that something is wrong. “Hey, Ro, you alright?” He doesn’t mean to use the nickname - because even though the dog looked like a “Ro”, the man certainly didn’t - but it just slips out. 

Ronan blinks up at him slowly and tries a smile that’s so false that it makes Adam grimace. It drops from Ronan’s face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.” Adam can’t understand how the mood went from friendly and warm to stilted so quickly. “Sorry, yeah, I know I’m an asshole.” 

Understanding comes to him in a flash, and then Adam is the one who feels like an asshole. He would never have sworn at Ronan-the-dog; he’s not sure why he thought it’d be okay to swear at Ronan-the-person, especially since Ronan had already said he was having a hard time being bipedal again. 

“No, listen. I’m sorry,” Adam says, turning the stove off and focusing his full attention on Ronan. “I shouldn’t have said that, you were joking and I got careless with my words. You’re not an asshole. I’m sorry.” He’s never been great at interpersonal stuff, but he’s pretty satisfied with the way his apology comes out. Ronan stares back at him with his mouth open, like he’s shocked. 

“It’s alright. I’m sorry for overreacting. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” It’s an easier out than Adam had expected, but he’s never been one for being easy on himself. 

“Yeah well, I shouldn’t have said it anyway. Sorry,” he apologises again. Without thinking about it, without actually intending to, Adam steps around the table to where Ronan is sitting, and wraps his arms around Ronan’s shoulders, pulling him in for a hug, keeping Ronan’s head close to his chest, beside his heart. 

Adam hasn’t hugged anyone like this - of his own violation - ever. Not once in his life before. _Never_. His own instinct baffles him, and he resists the urge to jerk away, even though he’s the idiot who initiated the contact. 

Ronan is still for a beat before he turns his face towards Adam’s chest and wraps his arms around Adam in return, breathing quietly for long moments. “Thanks,” he says quietly, though it comes out sounding like ‘ _fangs_ ’. Adam runs a hand down the prickly top of Ronan’s head, the way he would have if Ronan was still a dog, but it doesn’t feel the same, and Adam doesn’t mean it in the same way. He doesn’t know what exactly he means, but he knows it’s not the same. 

When Adam pulls back, Ronan doesn’t say anything until he’s near the stove again, turning the stove on to salvage their pancakes. “Sorry for being weird,” he offers, the words sounding like they hurt coming out, like he’s not accustomed to apologising, or like he’s expecting Adam to react badly. 

Adam shakes his head but doesn’t make eye-contact. “Don’t be sorry. You’re weird but in a good way. And I guess, so am I.” 

“You’re not weird,” Ronan observes, but his voice is much calmer now, and Adam thinks he’s less likely to pick up and run away than he was just ten minutes before. “You’re pretty normal, I think?” 

Adam snorts. “I’m utterly defective, Ro, and this is _after_ years of therapy and messing up every relationship I ever had.” Ronan - the dog - had been the first time Adam had let his guard down in nearly a decade. 

“Shit,” Ronan sighs, “if you’re defective, what does that make me? I’ve run away from every problem I’ve ever faced, including the problems that I deliberately created. My closest friends are the ones who refuse to let me go even when I make their lives difficult, because that’s all I do, Adam. Being with you was pretty much one of the best months of my life, and that means you’re the least defective person I know.”

Adam doesn’t want to blush, because this isn’t exactly Shakespearean poetry or high romance, but it’s probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about him. He doesn’t want to blush, but he can’t help it. “Thanks,” he tries, pretending to be cool for the first and only time in his life. It’s been a morning of firsts for him. 

Ronan just smiles and ducks his own head, not saying anything about Adam’s awkwardness. A long moment passes before Adam remembers the pancakes, and turns to rescue them, swearing. Two of them are ruined, but the rest of them are alright once he opens the window to let out some smoke, and smothers them in butter and syrup. 

Ronan eats them with apparent relish, and Adam can’t help but feel pleased, not because of the implied compliment to his skills but because it means Ronan was hungry and now he’s full. Because it means Ronan trusted Adam to not accidentally poison him as a human, to eat at his table, food made by his own hands. It’s just pancakes, Adam knows, but he can’t help but think it’s more than that. 

He eats his own chocolate chip pancakes, and is secretly relieved that he hadn’t accidentally dumped salt in them or anything. They finish their breakfast and Ronan insists on doing the dishes, which is a nice gesture even though there’s only a few of them. 

Adam uses the bathroom and changes into his normal-person clothes; the set that he wears to show that he’s not trying too hard, that he doesn’t care too much, even though he does. He hasn’t bothered with them in a while and the trousers are a little tight, but he doesn’t imagine that Ronan would care, with his own painted-on-jeans. 

His eyes fall on the small box of Ronan’s stuff lying in the corner of his closet. At the very top of the box is a blanket folded into quarters, in a dark blue so deep it’s almost black. It’s made of fleece, nothing particularly expensive, but it’s soft and warm and Adam had bought it for Ronan before he’d remembered that Ronan didn’t live with him anymore. 

He’d come home from that marketing trip and deposited the blanket straight into the box, and made every effort to not look at it after that. Until now. He scoops it out of the box and rubs it between his thumb and his fingertip. It’s still beautifully soft, despite his neglect. It’d be a shame to keep it here, since he’s not going to use it. He folds it into quarters and tucks it into a cloth tote bag. Ronan might get some use out of it. 

Ronan is reclined on the sofa with his eyes closed, but Adam doesn’t buy the relaxed pose for a second. “Hey,” he says, because he doesn’t think he could scare Ronan, but he doesn’t want to take the chance anyway. “I got you something.” 

Ronan sits bolt upright, his ears practically pricked and his eyes wide as he looks at Adam. Adam begins to doubt himself almost instantly; who even does this? It’s too much, too soon, and he’s definitely going to scare Ronan away. But he doesn’t let himself retreat. He’s tired of being scared. “For me?” Ronan asks, sounding more than surprised. 

Adam nods and extends the bag to him over the side of the sofa. Ronan takes it without any hesitation, and looks up at Adam through thick lashes without even opening the thing. He’s really unfairly beautiful, and Adam feels his heart skip a beat. How is this his life? 

“I bought it for you before - I mean. I forgot that you were gone and I saw it and I wanted to get it for you. It’s just been sitting here for a while. I thought you should have it.” Adam isn’t good at many things, but he’s good at words, and he’s not really sure what to do when even they fail them. He sounds like an idiot, but he doesn’t know how else to say what he’s thinking, than to just come out and say it.

It occurs to him that Ronan might actually be offended to be re-gifted something that had been meant for his dog-self. His dog-persona? Dogsona? Adam’s going to lose his mind, but his spiral is interrupted by Ronan sticking his hand in the bag and pulling the blanket out, and then immediately pressing his face into it. When he finally emerges from the fleece, he might as well have been wagging his tail. “For me?” he asks again, “you were thinking of me?” 

Adam drops his gaze to the floor and resists the urge to shrug like an embarrassed child. His fingers are deliberately, carefully unclenched; he long ago broke the habit of biting his nails by painting them with a bitter polish. He’s got barely any ugly coping mechanisms left. He wishes he had at least one left, for times like this. “Yeah,” he admits, and then, “sorry,” because it’s probably a little weird. He knows it is. Buying a blanket for a dog is one thing. Buying a blanket for an adult person is something entirely else, and far too intimate for strangers like Adam and Ronan. 

Ronan doesn’t seem to care about any of Adam’s internal thoughts, or his line of reasoning. He leaps out of the sofa and throws himself at Adam, wrapping his arms around Adam’s chest and squeezing him _hard_. “Thank you,” Ronan whispers, and Adam hugs back, and doesn’t say anything. It’s a disproportionate reaction for something so small, but Adam somehow isn’t surprised. He doesn’t think Ronan is the type to have received many gifts in his life, oddly enough. 

When Ronan pulls back, his eyes are bright and his grin is brilliant and he looks like he’s just a spark away from catching fire from how delighted he is. “Can I keep it here?” 

The question isn’t a difficult one, but it takes Adam by surprise, because it suggests - it promises something more than this one time. Gifts are important to Ronan. Ronan doesn’t often receive gifts. Ronan treasures the gifts he does receive. He’s asking to keep his gift at Adam’s house; _ergo_ , he intends to come back to use it. Adam can’t find a single objection to the request, so he just nods and tries not to shake at the thought that he suddenly has a friend, a _real_ friend, not just someone from work whom he doesn’t mind hanging out with. 

“Great!” Ronan says, his grin getting even wider. “Thank you, Adam.” He darts in and kisses Adam’s cheek, so quickly that Adam isn’t sure whether he imagined it, and he’s left blinking as Ronan carefully spreads the fleece over the back of the sofa, like he’s copying the way he’s seen someone do it. “Let’s go, Dick and Blue will be waiting for us.” 

Adam stands there in shock until he hears Ronan slipping on his shoes and turning the knob of the apartment door. He can’t help but laugh at the thought that Ronan suddenly has opposable thumbs, which is a hilarious image for a dog. “What?” Ronan asks, standing in the doorway, looking like a model when Adam turns around. “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing,” Adam replies, wrapping his scarf around his throat and slipping on his favourite boots. “I’m just happy.” Ronan extends a hand and Adam accepts it, and follows him through the door. He’s just happy, that’s all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a really rough end to a really rough year. The universe has been kicking my ass like a football down the street and I am utterly drained. I hope everyone has something good to look forward to in the coming year! Happy New Year <3

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't know where the title comes from, I envy you, but I also apologise for the lack of imagination.


End file.
